


Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response

by photonromance



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: ASMR, ASMR Triggers, Hair Playing, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal, Non-graphic depictions of violence, Pliant Will, Whispering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 04:26:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2095710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/photonromance/pseuds/photonromance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will has ASMR or Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response. (A strange sensation only some people experience. A tingling or involuntary relaxation when exposed to certain triggers.) It's not terribly important to Hannibal, but as a means of soothing Will in times of distress, it is exceptionally effective. A soothed Will is a pliant Will and Hannibal likes his Will soft and compliant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose this would be easiest to understand if you have ever experienced ASMR. If not, I hope it still makes sense. For the curious, I would recommend a quick Google search for ASMR. The Wikipedia article is actually quite informative.

The scene was drenched in red and even Jack had covered his mouth to keep from gagging. 

Will had walked right into the abattoir and breathed deep. 

Before the hour was up, he was stammering information at Jack and stumbling into Hannibal's arms. It started raining as they huddled under the house's back porch. The reporters and crime scene techs were all cluttering up the front yard and here, Will can be shielded from their stares. 

Hannibal holds Will tight to his chest. He reeks of blood now, drying viscera still clinging to his shoes. He is marsh grass in a hurricane, grasping at Hannibal's jacket with trembling fingers and gasping for breath he will not catch. 

"Hush darling," Hannibal murmurs, pitching his voice low, "Mielasis." 

Will chokes on his own breath and Hannibal cups his head and forces Will's face against his vest. He is made to breathe through the material, Hannibal's subtle cologne and the heat of his scent filling Will's senses in a dark rush. Will quiets instantly. His fingers cease their clamoring and settle to clench Hannibal's jacket, more security than desperation now. 

"Hush now." Hannibal continues, easing Will away to press his cheek over Hannibal's heart. It beats still and the rhythm soothes away the sounds of the family's screams. Will's heart rate slows, his breathing evens and Hannibal holds him while the rain washes away Will's bloody footprints on the concrete path. 

He continues breathing Hannibal's scent, pressing his face to fine material to chase that elusive musk. When he is calm enough, Hannibal begins petting him. It's a simple thing, running his fingers through damp curls, tugging gently at the end of each one. Will shivers and his shoulders loosen an inch. 

He has ASMR. 

It's pointless, completely trivial, but it's another quirk Hannibal loves to engage. Will can't control his responses and it's much easier to subtly induce than sexual arousal. Will even enjoys it, leans into Hannibal to be petted when they sit together on the couch in his office. Having his hair manipulated and whispers are Will's main triggers, but gentle tapping or sweeping sounds can work as well. 

Hannibal works to trigger a response as Will breathes him in. "You are safe now, Will." He murmurs against the shell of Will's ear, the air as much of a stimulus as the whisper, "You are safe, here, with me." 

"I'm safe." Will replies, not moving his head. It's still a question. 

"Yes, darling." Hannibal begins petting him again, "As long as I'm here, you are safe." 

"Safe." Will intones again, his voice growing weaker. His shoulders are relaxing and his grip is loosing. 

"Right where you belong, Will. I'm going to take such good care of you." 

"Yeah." Will's hands are holding lightly at Hannibal's waist, his cheek pressed to his shoulder. He's not supporting his head, trusting Hannibal to bear his weight. He's completely loose, rising into his toes to chase the sensation of Hannibal's fingers twisting his curls. 

"I'm going to take you home." Hannibal continues, letting his accent thicken his voice the way he knows Will adores, "I'm going to feed you a nice, warm meal and put you to bed. Does that sound nice, Will? Get a hot broth in your belly and tuck you into my bed. I know you sleep best there. You are safe with me." 

Will nods, a little whimper escaping him. He's boneless against Hannibal, his bright eyes drowsy now. Hannibal steps back and slips out of his jacket, draping over Will's hunched shoulders. He takes those shoulders in his hands and makes Will meet his eye. 

"I want you to go to the car, alright Will? I'll tell Jack you're not well and we can go home." 

He makes sure Will understands before letting him go. He's dwarfed by Hannibal's coat but he'll smell divine when they reach Hannibal's home. Hannibal goes through the kitchen, informs Jack that he's taking Will home, the scene was just too much, and leaves out the front. The crowd of reporters has died down and he reaches his car unmolested. 

Will is already in the passenger seat, asleep against the window, Hannibal's jacket wrapped tightly around him. Hannibal starts his car and when they reach his home, his scent has penetrated Will's clothes. He won't feel safe without it, soon enough, and his occasional sleepovers (already growing more frequent) will become the only way he will sleep. 

Will eats the soup Hannibal serves him, wears pyjamas Hannibal gives him, doesn't question their perfect size and fit. He falls asleep with Hannibal's long fingers tangled in his hair and Hannibal's whispered promises in his head.


End file.
